Reasons to Stay
by Runsoirse
Summary: Response to the prompt for Nov. 28 'Wish' from Rosawyn's "Daily Prompts" at the "Game of Thrones Fanfiction Discussion & Challenge" forum.    '"I just wish he wanted to stay...You know, more than he wants to leave, anyway."'


**Reasons to Stay**

**Response to the prompt for Nov. 28 'Wish' from Rosawyn's "Daily Prompts" at the "Game of Thrones Fanfiction Discussion & Challenge" forum. (Also uses the prompts for Nov. 29 'Eyes' and Dec. 23 'Stable'.)**

The group was tensely quiet as they arrive back at the stables of Castle Black. Predictably, and despite his dour mood, Jon was the first to finish untacking and caring for his horse—his actions efficient from years of practice—after which he stormed out of the stables without a word.

"At least he came back," Pyp mumbled while loosening the leather of his cinch's knot with numb fingers.

"Not exactly happy about it," Grenn grumbled in reply as he hefted the saddle off his own horse.

"Would you be happy if you just heard your father was accused a traitor and had his head chopped off?" Pyp's voice held an edge of exasperation as he grasped his own saddle and prepared to lift it.

Grenn shrugged. "I guess not." He eased the bit out of his horse's mouth and hung the bridle on a wooden peg.

Sam frowned worriedly at the closed stable door. "I just wish he wanted to stay." He grimaced and looked at the other two. "You know, more than he wants to leave, anyway." His fingers had stilled on his cinch's knot. His horse nickered softly and bumped her head into his shoulder, reminding him that she still needed her saddle off.

"He has a brother," Grenn said thoughtfully brushing his horse's neck, "and a sister who he cares about."

"Those are powerful reasons to leave," Pyp agreed, easing the bridle off his own horse's head.

"What we need," Grenn continued, "is to find him more reasons to stay."

Pyp nodded to Sam, "You'll need to be the one to do that, Sam."

Sam started, nearly dropping the heavy saddle in his arms. "Me? Why me?" He blinked several times in confusion.

Grenn was nodding in agreement with Pyp as he carefully brushed away the sweaty mark the cinch had left on his horse's side. "He likes you more."

"He feels protective of you," Pyp said. "Cares about what happens to you."

"Do you think you can do that, Sam?" Grenn asked, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Sam over the back of his horse.

"I-uh—" Sam looked down at his feet. "I need Jon to stay here," he said with a sigh. "We all need him, but I—I don't think I can...live...without him."

Pyp's gaze was intent on his horse's hoof as he carefully cleaned it and his voice was low as he spoke, "Do you think you could make Jon feel the same way about you?"

Sam's mind raced. He felt dizzy. His mouth opened and closed several times without a sound. How could he—clumsy, cowardly, fat, and useless Samwell Tarly—ever hope that _anyone_ would want him around that badly? ...but Jon had been the first person in his life ever to seem to want him _at all_, so maybe it was possible?

Pyp, who had finished caring for his own horse and walked over to where Sam stood, placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly near his ear, "You could always try falling off your horse again; it seemed to work rather well tonight."

Sam gave him a look of utter confusion.

"You probably didn't notice, being face-down in the dirt and all," Pyp continued, "but he didn't stop until he heard you fall—that's when he turned his horse around and came back."

Sam nodded, his eyes wide, wondering at what Pyp had told him as Pyp left the stables and he finished caring for his horse.

* * *

><p>The next night, Jon found Sam in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Jon!" Sam said excitedly as Jon closed the door behind himself.<p>

"Yes, I'm still here," he grumbled, pulling off his gloves and rubbing his hands together against the ever-present cold.

"So you're not planning to try to leave again?"

Jon sighed and levelled a dark glare at Sam. "No, I'm not 'planning' on trying to leave again."

Sam sighed and looked at the floor. "But you don't want to stay?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "Why would I 'want to stay'? Why would _anyone_ '_want_ to stay'?"

"Maybe—" Sam swallowed painfully. "Maybe because what they have here is better than anything—than anything else."

Jon's eyes betrayed a feeling of helplessness. "Sam, I'm sorry, I—" He ran his fingers through his dark curly hair. "If you were me, wouldn't you want to leave?"

"If I were you, I'm pretty sure I would never have come here."

Jon sat heavily next to Sam, looking at the toes of his boots. "I'm tired, Sam." He sounded tired, looked tired.

"I'm cold," Sam replied.

Jon laughed a little at that, bumping his shoulder against Sam's and leaning against him. "You don't feel cold to me."

"I like it when you laugh," Sam said quietly.

Jon turned to study him out of the corner of one eye, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Well," Sam explained, "you don't do it enough—laugh I mean, but when you do...it's—" He sighed. "It's the best thing—the best thing ever."

Jon laughed a little more at that, and Sam smiled. "If I knew how," Sam continued, "I'd make you laugh all the time." He could feel the heat from Jon's bicep where it pressed against his own, lean and powerful muscles moving slightly under the layers of clothing. Jon's knee brushed slightly against his own.

"Maybe if you really _were_ a wizard, and you could use magic to fix everything, so I wasn't a bastard, kill all the White Walkers, bring my father back—" Jon's voice grew harder as he spoke, breaking off as he turned to face Sam, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and giving him a shake. "But you can't do any of those things, can you?" Jon's breath was loud and ragged and his eyes were confused as they focused on Sam's face.

Sam's hands came up to gently encircle Jon's wrists. He allowed his thumbs to gently stroke the exposed skin there. "Jon," he said, his voice gentle.

And suddenly Jon's hands were roughly grasping the sides of his head and Jon's lips were crashing against his own, and for a moment Sam forgot how to breathe. A rush of desire and anticipation washed over his whole body, and he gasped. But just as suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ended—Jon had sprung off the bed and stumbled backward, a wild look in his eyes, his chest rising and falling in a broken rhythm. Sam blinked at him in confusion.

"Sam, I—" Jon's eyes moved rapidly, looking everywhere but at his friend.

Sam was staring at Jon as though seeing him for the first time. He sighed, then spoke, "Jon, come back to bed." The words sounded insane to his own ears, but somehow his mouth had bypassed the rational part of his brain.

Jon shook his head stiffly. "You really don't want me to do that, Sam."

"Actually, Jon, I'm pretty sure I do." Realization was washing over him with a refreshing calm, giving him confidence.

Jon's eyes widened, finally looking at Sam's face. "I-I thought—" Jon looked thoroughly lost. "I thought you liked girls!" he blurted out, his cheeks reddening.

"I do like girls," Sam replied. "But I—" He looked down, feeling heat rising to his own cheeks. "But I also like you."

"You're—" Jon shook his head as though trying to clear it. "You're doing this because you want me to stay."

Sam stood and stepped closer to where Jon stood with his back against the wall. "This is—this is _why_ I want you to stay." He looked away form Jon's face again and said more hesitantly, "Well, one of the reasons anyway."

Jon was still impossibly tense and still looked so lost, so confused. Sam took hold of one of his hands between both of his and tugged gently, leading the dazed Jon to the bed. "You've done so much for me, Jon; let me do something for you."

Jon gave him a worried look. "You really want this?"

"Is it so hard to believe that someone would want you, Jon? You're _strong_ and you're _smart_ and you're _kind_, and you're so—" Sam halted, staring at Jon's face as though entranced.

And then Jon was kissing him again, and it was so different from the first time; while that had been harsh and demanding, this was gentle and hesitant, as though Sam were some fragile, precious thing—it was so different, and yet Sam could not honestly say which type of kiss he preferred, so he stopped trying to decide and just let himself get lost in the sensation of Jon's soft lips against his and Jon's strong hands gently running over his body and clasping the back of his neck.

* * *

><p>Some time later, Jon lay naked next to Sam, a dreamy smile on his face. "Sam," he said warmly with a touch of awe, "You're amazing."<p>

Sam flushed bright red and stammered in response, "Not-not as amazing as you!"

Jon's answering laugh was throaty as his eyes squeezed shut and his grin grew impossibly broad. "I'm glad you think so, because I didn't have any idea what I was doing."

"Neither did I," Sam admitted shyly.

Jon rolled over to press his forehead against Sam's, gazing at him with twinkling eyes. "You're...adorable," he said nuzzling his nose against Sam's.

Lying there, starring up into Jon's relaxed, laughing face, Samwell Tarly had never felt more wanted, or more at peace.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: An idea I've had kicking around in my head since forever, finally shaped into a full-fledged story. Please let me know what you think.**

**I hope no one's terribly disappointed that I skipped over the sex, especially if that's what you were here looking for; I gave this an M rating, because the site guidelines say M is for "strong but non-explicit adult themes" while T is for "minor suggestive adult themes" - the "adult themes" seem closer to "strong" than "minor" to me.**

**I might be the only one in the world who ships Sam/Jon, but what the heck? I love them and think they are super cute. If you ship them too, I would love to hear from you!**


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